Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 072
Chapter Title: Rome vs. Rome (3)
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1736. The grandly named Eastern Christian Liberation Army split into two columns and began its advance.
The main Austrian force, led by Joseph, immediately headed south to besiege Niš.
Meanwhile, the Imperial auxiliary force, centered around the Prussian mercenaries and commanded by Moritz, marched east toward Banja Luka.
Niš was the gateway from the Danube to Constantinople (Istanbul), the vital supply, postal, and tax route for the Ottoman main force in the Balkans.
Banja Luka served as Bosnia's shield and the linchpin guarding the Adriatic sea lanes. If both fell simultaneously, the Ottomans would have no choice but to retreat nearly 200 kilometers.
Their logistics and army movements would be completely severed.
In the original history, the Austrians had targeted both places at once, but they failed to hold either in the end.
This time, however, things were different.
Leopold Joseph had already heard the Ottoman strategy in advance from Eugène and Franz, allowing him to prepare an enticing trap to lure the enemy.
East of the Morava River.
The shortest land supply route to Niš featured a marshy hillside known as Zile Pass.
The path was roughly thirty meters wide, flanked by reed beds swollen with water, and the clay ground made it nearly impossible to extract wagons by manpower alone if they got stuck.
"In other words, any supply column passing through here would make for perfect bait for them."
Joseph had received the approximate route of the Ottoman raiders from Franz beforehand.
He had no idea how such intelligence had been obtained, but cross-referencing it with information from local prisoners made everything fit perfectly.
"Did you perhaps bribe someone high up in the Ottoman ranks? Quite the talent you have."
The Crimean Tatar and Albanian cavalry units employed by the Ottomans were estimated at between two and three thousand combined.
Their mission was to sever Austrian supply lines and hunt down prisoners.
Up to now, Austria had suffered continuous damage from these so-called Tatar-style raids.
The enemy appeared and vanished like ghosts, striking and retreating repeatedly.
Especially in the early days of the war, predicting their movements had been nearly impossible, effectively handing them the first strike.
But now that their route was exposed, a mere two thousand raiders posed no threat.
"Let's turn Zile Pass into their graveyard. The key to the strategy is not to fight them head-on, but to ensure they can't escape."
After a grueling forced march, Joseph arrived swiftly at Zile Pass and positioned six light cannons disguised with straw and cloth in the reed beds on either side of the road.
Each barrel was loaded with bags of grapeshot, and at such close range, precise aiming wouldn't even be necessary.
"...Now all that's left is to wait for them to take the bait. I just hope it goes as planned."
This was his first battle as commander-in-chief.
A single misstep here would tarnish not only the reputation of his mentor Eugène, who had trained him, but also the prestige of Franz, who had boldly appointed him.
Being the worrywart type, he couldn't help feeling anxious, but he steadied himself with deep breaths.
Was it last year? Staring at these reed beds brought back a conversation with his master, Eugène.
"Joseph, this is the approximate front line, and here's the reported enemy movement path. Given the situation, what do you think the enemy's target is, and how should we respond?"
"Hmm... well......"
"...Is that what you call deliberation? Even with this obvious sequence?"
"Master, looking only at this campaign, the enemy's goal is clearly to cut our supply lines. The textbook response would be to swing our cavalry around and counter their intent. But..."
"But?"
Leopold Joseph's chronic affliction.
His "consider everything" habit relentlessly tripped him up whenever a decision was needed.
"...What if the enemy anticipates that? They might have prepared an additional detachment to counter our cavalry. So, to prevent that, shouldn't we keep reserve forces ready to send reinforcements at any moment? But..."
"Another but?"
"If they anticipate that anticipation, they might instead launch a surprise raid on our main force's exposed left flank... and if they anticipate that second-layer anticipation and twist it again......"
"...You madman."
Once thrust into the role of commander-in-chief, moments demanding bold decisions were inevitable.
But if he tried to reduce variables to zero here, he'd either do nothing or miss the critical moment.
Eugène had initially tried to cure Joseph of this trait but ultimately failed.
Instead of giving up, he imparted solid advice for the future.
"Joseph, when making a decision, twist your thinking and prepare countermeasures only up to twice."
"Pardon? But if the enemy predicts even that..."
"Then just lose. How do you expect to beat someone like that? If your opponent is Hannibal, Alexander, and Caesar rolled into one, of course you'd lose. Get crushed decisively and count it an honor to have fallen to such a genius. That's it."
"Ah..."
It sounded like nonsense at first, but on reflection, his master was right.
Did anyone curse Hannibal for losing to Scipio?
Does anyone call Pompey a fool for falling to Caesar?
If the foe was a legendary commander etched in history, it couldn't be helped!
With that epiphany, Joseph escaped "consider everything" and acquired the new skill "consider only twice."
If the Ottoman commander flailed within that framework, he'd win handily; if it was a once-in-a-century genius beyond prediction, he'd lose—but that wouldn't be his fault.
Joseph's mind grew remarkably serene.
* * * "So, we patrol around here, strip their supply column bare, and bolt."
"Will they try crossing Zile Pass?"
"It's the shortest route. If they want to deliver supplies even a bit faster, they'll take it. Plus, it's early in the war—they'd never dream we've come this far. And if they don't show, we just head back!"
As always, the Tatar cavalry exploited their signature mobility to hunt for pitiful prey.
War didn't feel much different from peacetime, so the soldiers' faces were relaxed.
Normally, they robbed merchants and travelers, selling them as slaves; now, the targets were just supply troops.
"Zile Pass is marshy, so don't go too deep! You never know what might happen."
"Yeah, yeah. Think we don't know that after all this time?"
"Accidents happen when you're too cocky. Anyway, gear up and let's move out again!"
If no supply column appeared, they'd push into border territories and loot a few easy villages.
The Tatar cavalry were the eyes, ears, and legs of the Ottoman forces in the Balkans.
The wider their spread, the easier it was for the Ottomans to track enemy movements, allowing their main force to operate safely.
Invasion—prisoners and horse theft— intel gathering—withdrawal.
Repeating this cycle had built their reputations, and they swept the Morava River area with the same confidence.
Over two thousand horsemen scattered in groups of about fifty ensured nothing escaped their notice.
"Captain! There! Just as you said—a supply column crossing Zile Pass!"
"For real? Hit 'em with five hundred, and scout wider to make sure their main force isn't coming."
"But sir, their numbers look pretty big. Five hundred might be tight; maybe we should all rush in at once?"
"That many, huh?"
The cavalry captain turned his horse and nodded toward the distant pass.
Wagons loaded with something snaked through the pass, as reported.
"Knew they'd come this way. But they're moving slow... Ah, a few wagons must've broken down."
Through his spyglass, he saw five or six wagons mired in the mud, soldiers scrambling to fix the wheels.
It was natural for some wagons to fail on such rough terrain, but outsiders often overlooked it.
"Torching a supply column this size would deal a serious blow to the Austrian main force. Now's our chance while they're panicking."
Landing a big catch like this early on had to mean God was smiling on them.
This was the blessing of a holy war.
Even the less devout felt divine presence in battles like these.
"Alright! When the signal goes up, everyone charge at once! Time to hunt!"
With thunderous war cries signaling the advance, the Tatar cavalry surged toward the oblivious enemy, who never dreamed of an ambush.
To sweep away these fools who thought enemy territory was safe.
However.
Boom! Boom!
Rat-a-tat-tat!
The elation turned to nightmare the moment they passed the reed beds.
"Full volley, all units! Don't let a single one escape—kill them all! No need for prisoners except those who drop their weapons! Slaughter every last one!"
The pass's heart had become a slaughterhouse, piled with mangled corpses.
Cannons and rifles bristled thickly from the reed beds.
What the wagons carried weren't supplies, but enemy soldiers armed to the teeth.
"Aaaargh!"
"C-Captain! They're ambushing us! Fight?"
"You idiots! Fight what? We'll be annihilated here! Retreat now!"
His battle-hardened instincts screamed that even turning tail now might be too late.
But the reed beds they'd blithely charged through were already sealed by Austrians.
Scanning routes frantically, he veered toward the marshy side with fewer enemies.
And at that instant.
KABOOM!
A deafening blast shook the earth, the ground erupting in a flash.
"Th-These bastards... they buried powder kegs in the dirt too? How fast did they get here and set this up?!"
"Aaaah! You cowardly dogs! An ambush! Fight fair, face-to-face!"
"Shut your mouths, you supply-raiding scum! Die, you fools!"
Rat-a-tat-tat!
The moment they bolted for the thinner enemy lines, powder kegs exploded, pinning the Tatar cavalry in place.
The seemingly weak spots likely hid traps, and breaking through the encirclement was impossible.
"Run! Run!"
"Don't stop! Stopping means death! Aaaagh!"
Bang!
Metal plates erupted from all sides, shredding the notorious Tatar cavalry into minced meat.
Watching the scene, Leopold Joseph committed his hidden cavalry to seal the victory.
"Attack them. But swing wide and cut off their retreat."
"Death to the Islamists!"
"Glory to General Joseph, Slayer of the Faithful!"
Frog slayer turned Islamic butcher—Joseph wondered if this was okay, but shrugged and went with the battlefield fervor.
His Highness Franz had done the same, hadn't he?
If you can't avoid it, enjoy it.
"Ahem! Listen up! Today, we bathe in the blood and tears of these heathens! Who among my Crusader warriors will fill my bathtub?"
"We will!"
"Fill General Joseph's tub with Islamic blood!"
Still, he'd prepared insurance against them predicting his moves, and even a final contingency for that—but it ended too anticlimactically.
Seeing the enemy die without even reaching phase two, Joseph was struck anew by Eugène's wisdom.
When the melee ended after little more than an hour, the reed beds held only horse corpses and shattered scimitars.
The Tatar and Albanian cavalry were effectively annihilated.
Over 1,400 dead, 600 captured, and barely 300 who fled alive.
Austrian losses: 40 dead, around 200 wounded.
In that instant, what shattered was the enemy's intelligence network and the Ottomans' confidence that Austrian supply lines could be cut at will.
It was the first clash, exactly twelve days after war broke out.
🗺️ Balkan Peninsula Map The central-northern Balkans, the main theater of this war. Yellow dot: Belgrade, seized by Austria in the last war's victory. Blue dot: Banja Luka, Moritz's target. Red dot: Niš, where Joseph advanced.